


Leave the light on

by Nathamuel



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Missionary Position, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathamuel/pseuds/Nathamuel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was unnerving, having Zoran stare at him from three inches away while he was fucking him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave the light on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lazarebitching](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarebitching/gifts).



> For lazarebitching. She introduced me to this pairing so it's all her fault! You may think "Fluff with Zoran? That can't be right!" and you would be 100% correct. For Zoran that is kind of fluffy. Idk how that happened... also I have no idea what to tag this with. There honestly isn't much to tag.

The hotel they were staying in was shabby. For a guy who was as rich as Zoran he did not spend his money lightly. Although, Harry supposed, it would have been a little too much to get a five-star-hotel in the middle of nowhere AND get rooms for an army on top of that. Still, Harry sometimes wished for a little luxury, money was what he was after after all and piles of it at that.  
When this whole thing was over he would be rich. Well, closer to it at least, if Zoran didn’t put a bullet through his head before that. The man’s fondness had limits.

The soldiers paid him no mind when he passed them by. Only the ones guarding Zoran's door eyed him when he entered. Harry closed the door behind him, leaving them to stand outside and moved farther into the rooms that Zoran had claimed for his quarters. 

The room was big with an adjacent bedroom and bathroom included. Quite cozy, if you ignored the yellowing curtains and peeling paint on the wall. It wasn't even the size of the hotel that was shabby. The building was big, the rooms large but the interior and furnitures' good days had long since passed. Not that Zoran or his soldiers cared for things like that. 

Zoran was bend over a map that was lying on a big table, studying it intently. He hadn’t even looked up when Harry had entered, which didn’t mean anything as far as his attention to your presence was concerned. 

“Strip,” Zoran said just as Harry had opened his mouth to say something. A not-so-quiet snort escaped Harry. Cut clear to the point, that was Zoran’s way. If he wanted to, Zoran could even be charming. Not that Harry had ever experienced it aimed at him, but since he gave as good as he got, he supposed they were even.

“What, you’re not even going to buy me dinner first?”, Harry asked as he walked a couple of steps closer, remaining out of arms-reach from Zoran. Not that it would help any if he pissed Zoran off for real.

“You had dinner just like everything else,” Zoran said. His icy blue eyes glanced at Harry over his shoulder, compelling Harry to pull his shirt over his head before letting his hands fall to his belt.

“Get on the bed and prepare yourself when you’re done,” Zoran continued. Then his attention was back on his map. A thrill of arousal curled in Harry’s belly, but he still couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“Maybe we can have dinner together afterward. All romantic,” he teased. His shirt landed on a vacated and dusty armchair, followed by his pants.

“Are you hungry that you only talk of food? Shut your mouth and get on the bed,” Zoran repeated and the edge in his voice was enough to make Harry clamp his mouth shut as he had been told. While poking the lion was fun in small doses, it was another thing entirely if it jumped up and bit your head off. 

Once rid of all his clothes, now piled not-so-neatly on the armchair, Harry moved into the bedroom. A tube of lube was stashed in the bedside table, put there by Harry after had Zoran had insisted one too many times on fucking him with nothing more than spit. While Harry liked it rough, he was no masochist and Zoran was what could only be called well endowed and ruthless. Not that Harry was any slacker in the department either, if he did say so himself.

Harry laid down on the bed, feet planted on the floor, and unscrewed the cap. For all it’s faults, the carpet in this room was still surprisingly soft. Through the open door he could watch Zoran studying the map. There was a certain thrill to lying naked on a bed and preparing himself for a warlord’s use. Under no circumstances would Harry ever admit to that little fact.

The lube was cool against his fingers and he let his warm a little before pressing the tips of his fingers to the furrow of skin behind his balls. He was already half-hard from excitement when he let the tips of his fingers sink into his hole. 

In the other room, Zoran moved away from the table without glancing at Harry once. Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on getting himself slick and ready before Zoran joined him. He could hear him at the door, talking to his soldiers in Serbian before his heavy steps came closer. 

When Harry opened his eyes again, Zoran was standing in the door frame. Harry smirked at him. As predicted, there was no reaction from the other man. His gaze was unwavering as he watched Harry move his fingers into himself. Under those steely eyes, Harry let another finger slide in beside the other two. A small sound escaped him and Zoran’s eyes narrowed. 

Then he moved away from the door, closing it behind him before stripping out of his clothes. Harry watched him. A naked Zoran was a sight to behold, all thick muscles, scars and strength. Unconsciously, Harry licked his lips.

Once naked, Zoran moved over to the bed and stood between Harry’s open legs. Harry nudged Zoran’s calf with a foot as he crooked his fingers inside his channel, seeking out his sweet spot. 

“Get done, Mr. Flynn,” Zoran growled out.

“Impatient, boss?” Harry teased back without missing a beat. He didn’t even flinch when Zoran’s hands closed around his thighs, squeezing warningly and pressing bruises into his skin. 

“Don’t test my patience,” Zoran said, deadly calm. Harry swallowed and pulled his fingers free.

“Alright, boss,” Harry said. When he moved to roll onto his belly soon after, Zoran stopped him. 

As a rule, if Harry would call fucking half a dozen times a rule, Zoran only ever took him on his knees, from behind, but now he forced Harry back onto his back. Harry could only frown up at him when Zoran made him move up the bed a little and then proceeded to push Harry’s legs towards his chest so his knees were practically beside his ears, ass tilted up. There was something to be said about feeling horribly exposed like this. 

“Really? Like this?”, Harry complained as Zoran knelt between his legs. Zoran’s cock slid against his hole, making him clench and he watched Zoran’s eyes darken.

“Like this,” Zoran agreed and without any further warning pushed inside. 

Words abandoned Harry for a moment as Zoran’s cock speared him open and did not stop until he had bottomed out. He didn’t even fight it when Zoran pinned his arms above his head. Maybe he wouldn’t have anyway. 

Then Harry was caged under Zoran’s weight, legs still pressed to his chest and held there by Zoran’s shoulders. Arms trapped over his head by Zoran’s hands and he could do nothing. He was completely surrounded by Zoran, the bed at his back. There was only a little room to wiggle on the cock that was filling him.

Harry took a gulping breath, gasped at the sensations.

Their faces were only inches apart and Zoran was _staring_ at him, while he pulled out slowly and thrusted back in, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. 

It was unnerving. The feeling of the thick cock impaling him did all kinds of arousing things to Harry, but he had never had Zoran stare at him from three inches away. If Zoran stared at him during their romps he usually couldn’t see it as his face was pressed into the sheets and he was clinging on for dear life to the aforementioned. As a rule, Zoran didn’t fuck him on his back, at least he hadn’t until now. Whenever Harry sucked him off he usually had his eyes closed.

Harry didn’t know where to look. His eyes skipped all over the room while Zoran lazily moved his hips to drive himself into Harry’s ass as deep as he could go, a steady but slow rhythm that made Harry pant for air. Their eyes caught for a moment and Harry had to look away again. He couldn’t pinpoint Zoran’s expression. It was interested, a calm and intense kind of interest, as if Harry was a new species to be studied. It didn’t help that he felt pinned like a butterfly, speared on Zoran’s cock and now wasn’t that a strange image. 

It was unnerving and _weird_ ,but Harry still found his breath growing labored as that thick cock rocked into him. He closed his eyes to at least better concentrate on the sensation of the girth spreading him open in all the right ways. His hands twitched in Zoran’s grip. He was _flushing_ under that gaze, felt it spread down over his chest.

“Open your eyes,” Zoran ordered and Harry’s eyes fluttered open when one of Zoran’s hands grabbed his hair and _pulled_. Harry’s mouth fell open and he whined when Zoran changed his rhythm, moving faster.

Zoran took both his wrists in hand to pin them over Harry’s head. His other hand remained in Harry’s hair, not pulling anymore but almost holding. If it had been anyone else in his bed Harry would have called it gentle, affectionate.

A moan escaped him when Zoran’s cock brushed over his prostate. Another when it happened again.

Then Zoran’s cock brushed over it on ever thrust, rubbing the girth of his cock over the spot again and again. Harry realized that Zoran hadn’t hit his spot before because he hadn’t _wanted_ to. 

Harry cried out when a particularly rough thrust made his toes curl and then every one of his breaths was accompanied by a moan, a cry, a whine or any other noise of pleasure and Zoran continued fucking him like a machine, steady and staring down at him, cataloging everyone of his reactions, not easing up at all.

Harry could feel his orgasm come closer like a tidal wave with the constant assault on his prostate. His hard cock was trapped between their bellies, rubbing against the hard planes of Zoran’s abs with every thrust. Then Zoran stopped his long thrusts, replacing them with short little jabs that made Harry’s eyes almost roll into his head with how good they felt. 

There was nothing at all he could do when he came between them, only shake with the intensity of it. Then his arms were free and Zoran leaned away from him, not ceasing his thrusts but keeping Harry’s legs pressed to his chest with his hands underneath Harry’s thighs. His rhythm changed again from short to long, quickening until he was pounding into Harry’s oversensitive hole and there was nothing Harry could do to stop him. There was nothing he _wanted_ to do to stop him. In fact, Harry didn’t feel like moving at all. He only held onto the sheets as Zoran’s thrusts rocked him into the bed. 

Zoran’s breath was labored. He almost never moaned and his face was concentrated as he pushed into Harry, eyes fluttering shut only when his rhythm shuttered and he pressed in as far as he could, spilling into Harry’s channel and leaving him slicker than before.

Then He was strangely gentle when he eased Harry’s feet to the bed, less so when he pulled out of him. Harry found himself letting out a complaining noise at the discomfort. 

There were words that were on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but his mind was fuzzy and orgasm-hazy when Zoran lay down beside of him. He didn’t even protest when Zoran pushed him roughly onto his side and laid close to his back. A calloused hand slid over his sweaty flank and down to his ass. Thick fingers pushed into his sore hole, lingering there for a moment before pulling out again.

“Hey,” Harry slurred out, which wasn’t much as far as complaints went.

“Shut up,” Zoran said calmly. His hand slid up again over Harry’s sweaty sides and stopped on his waist. His thumb rubbed circles into Harry’s skin.

Harry felt that he should get up, leave like the respectable man that he wasn’t, but his eyes were growing heavy. It had been late in the day after all, when Zoran had called him to his quarters.  
And Zoran wasn’t kicking him out. The bed was soft and Harry didn’t even feel himself fall asleep, Zoran a warm line against his back.


End file.
